


Fever

by LChan3706



Series: Bloody Petals [5]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Naruto, Nolanverse - Fandom, The Dark Knight
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crime, Crossover, F/M, From another story, Heavy-handed, J being a pain, Joker (DCU) Played by Heath Ledger, One Shot, Sickness, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr request, couple stuff, sweet and sour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LChan3706/pseuds/LChan3706
Summary: A series of JokeSaku one-shots, drabbles, and requests connected to 'Tsūyaku'.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Joker (DCU)
Series: Bloody Petals [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762705
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Joker comes home from a job, only to find Sakura sick in bed. A one-shot from a request on Tumblr.

It's hot. Too damn _hot_.

Sakura groans, tearing her eyes away from the ceiling to stare out the window. The snow's still falling with little chance of it stopping anytime soon. It's a beautiful sight that would have delighted her on most days, but she can't find it in herself to relish the view.

Green eyes watch the feathered crystals dancing in the wind, twirling around as it gently falls to the ground. It's a struggle to crane her neck up, hoping to see how much area it's covered in the last few hours. To her surprise, everything outside is pure white, leaving nothing untouched. The dead trees and grass, the bench where she likes to sit on to read, the van parked alongside the building, even the wrap-around porch. All blanketed by winter's frosty kiss, so _dazzling_ it's hard to look at for too long.

The darkening sky is still white, but she can tell it's getting late without rolling over to check the clock. Dropping against the mattress, Sakura lets out a shuddered breath. Being sick is a miserable experience that leaves her with nothing to do aside from mulling over everything that worries her. It's foolish, she knows, but part of her is still concerned.

Joker's been gone for a few days, which isn't unusual at all. Sometimes he stays for brief periods in the city for his 'job', but _always_ comes back. Usually, it's with a cocky smirk and filthy clothes, yet on those few occasions that he doesn't… Someone ends up in the basement where he spends hours doing God-knows-what with his tools. The pinkette knows what goes on down there... It's not a secret.

That area is off-limits, _especially_ to her, and Rocco is the only one that's alive who's seen it. If curiosity got the best of her and she took a tour, it will only haunt the pinkette's days and nights. She doesn't enjoy that kind of 'entertainment' and Joker knows that. Snooping around might end up in a little punishment, but that's about it. Anyone else would be terrified at the thought, and rightfully so. Unlike them, her discipline doesn't end with broken bones, missing limbs, or death.

Hearing the familiar stomping up the stairs, Sakura wants to push herself up the bed to greet him. Another trickle of sweat trails along the pale skin of her face from the effort, but she can't muster the strength to even sit up. It's pathetic to be such a state, especially with her abilities. The pinkette can't remember the last time she was sick, let alone to this degree. With a strained groan, she gives up and settles into the mattress, waiting for him to burst through the door.

The doorknob twists and she peers over the fluffy duvet to see a tall figure standing at the threshold. Just as she expects, Joker looks like a mess as he stalks into the bedroom, leaving a wet trail of shoe prints across the hardwood floor. His purple trench coat's decorated in splotches of ash and dried blood, mixed with other substances she'd rather not think about. Greasepaint smeared and missing in patches, revealing the tan skin beneath, with the rest weeping down his face. As always, J's hair is a faded, stringy mess that never listens to any commands, just like its owner. No matter when she catches him, he forever has the appearance of a wild madman.

And that's just _fine_.

Right away, his brow furrows when he notices her lying beneath the covers, unnaturally pale and sweaty. Usually, Sakura is busy doing something, whether it's reading or wrapped up in a craft. _Not today_. The black pits in his sockets narrow on her as he shrugs off his trench coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. They give off an unsettling sensation, making her want to shrink into nothingness, no matter how many times she gazes into them. Moreso when he returns from a job... when the bloodlust still lingers in the air around him. It clings to him the same way the stench of gasoline does. 

J moves to stand at the end of the bed, staring without saying a word. It's hard to pick up on his moods like this. No one's better at keeping everything hidden than him, whether it's his thoughts, feelings, or more importantly, _intentions_.

 _"_ _I missed you…"_ Her voice is low and raspy, trying to suppress a cough working its way up. All-day the pinkette's been hacking up with the sensation of blades dancing along her throat refusing to quit.

The side of his mouth quirks up at her words, like someone's tugging on it with a fishline. She knows Joker won't repeat it back. That's just not going to happen, yet it's his eyes that give him away. He always says they're the gateway to the soul and in the privacy of their room, they reveal what his words won't.

"You're sick." It's not a question and she knows it. He can always tell when something's off, no matter how well she tries to hide it. They grew up together, and he's already seen it all, even if she's still missing pieces to their puzzle.

Sakura gives him a weary, apologetic smile, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. When he comes home, she likes to greet him and _show_ how much she missed him, whether he disappears for a day or five. Right now, her aching muscles can't bear to even push herself up.

"Hmm…" Joker grunts, sauntering off towards the bathroom. Seeing his retreating back, she almost calls out to get his attention, to keep him from going too far again. Even if he doesn't say much, the company alone is more than enough. From the looks of his clothes, he can use a good shower, but those are trivial matters to him. Even if she wants to spend time together, he's been gone for days and will undoubtedly need to unwind first. It's for the best...

Sighing, the pinkette leans back against the pillow and closes her eyes. Jack will come to her when he's ready. Who knows what kind of shit-show he just pulled off? She might as well try to get some sleep and hopefully, this sickness will run its course faster.

_'I need to get better soon. I'm useless like this.'_

Something sopping wet drops onto her face, jolting Sakura back to her senses. Sputtering from the water running down her skin, she reaches up in surprise to yank it away. Joker looms over the side of the bed and arches a brow, trying to hold back a cackle she knows is coming. Glancing at her hand, there's a soaking, wet rag he didn't bother wringing out.

_'Fucking figures…'_

"Keep it on your forehead, doll." Despite his expression, there's something playful in his pitch-dark, glassy eyes. When she doesn't move, he snatches the rag and folds it over, smacking it against her forehead. Beads of cold water trail down her temples into the pink hair strewn over the pillow and she bites her lip to keep back a retort. Most people would see this as being heavy-handed, but she knows better. This is _his_ version of care and it's the best he can do. This is more than she can ask for. It's the intent that's appreciated, even if J's harsh with everything he does.

The cool rag feels heavenly against her heated skin as she breaks out in goosebumps from the difference. A breathy sigh spills from her lips and he smirks at the reaction.

"We're not done yet." Sakura finally notices what's in his gloved hand. A bottle of medicine and a spoon. She has no clue where the spoon came from and doesn't ask. It'll only result in some vague, arrogant remark, neither she wants to deal with at the moment.

Watching him fiddling with the cap, the pinkette can't help recalling all the times she did this in the past for him. Eight years ago, when his mouth was healing after being slashed open. He consistently kept tearing the stitches open, until they became horribly infected, yet he refused to go to the hospital. Jack was always so goddamn stubborn and never listens, even if it results in making himself suffer twice as long.

 _"_ _Open up."_ The spoon is right near her lips, and she grimaces from the strong scent of the medication. It's dark red, reminding her of blood... and surprisingly, the pinkette finds that she'd rather smell that compared to this. Noticing her expression of distaste, gloved fingers pinch her stuffy nose, and she reluctantly opens her mouth. The nasty liquid runs down her throat as the metal clangs against her teeth, making sure she takes all of it.

"Don't spit it out or I'll have to punish ya." Joker pops his lips, ignoring the way she's kicking her feet around under the covers. It's disgusting, and he knows how much Sakura hates medicine, but she needs it. Sometimes people have to do what's necessary for the ones they care about.

"Eckk!" She swats his hand away from her nose, letting annoyance overpower her exhaustion. If looks can kill, Batman would have one less chaotic problem to deal with.

"How 'bout ya just relax? _Hmm?_ Ya won't get better by being a pain in the ass." This time, J doesn't restrain the cackle that's been building up in his chest. It's harsh on the ears, yet contagious in nature, causing her annoyance to wane. She can never stay angry at him long, no matter what he does.

 _"_ _That's my girl."_ He leans down and kisses the tip of her nose, leaving a red smudge behind. That only makes his fit worse, falling into hysterics. She never understands why he finds leaving greasepaint on her face so funny, but that doesn't stop her from smiling.

"Heh. Looks good on ya." Grabbing the rag, he wipes it off before dropping it back in place. She frowns at the water running down her neck, even if it feels good. J is such a weird man, but she loves him anyway... Even in all his vicious glory. 

Joker's eyes don't leave hers as he toes off his battered dress shoes, quickly plucking at the buttons of his green waistcoat. When he was standing next to the bed, she noticed everything's wet from being out in the snow. If the pinkette wasn't so sick, she'd help take it all off and use herself as bait to tempt the clown into a hot shower. That's the best way to get him cleaned up, otherwise, he doesn't care about any of it. He'll go filthy for days without batting one of those heavy, shadowy lids.

"How'd it go? Did you guys have any problem with the snow?" J frowns after throwing his belt on the floor when the inquiry causes a coughing fit that makes her small body shake beneath the duvet. His lip curls up and she thinks he's about to snarl, but it doesn't come out. Stamping across the hardwood floor, he clicks his tongue and throws the covers off his side of the bed to flop down.

For a moment, Sakura assumes he might be angry that she asked. Since the day they ran into each other, neither put much effort into talking about his 'job'. After everything that went down in Gotham, there's no point in pretending it's some sort of secret about what he does. She's seen it, felt it, lived it and they both could've died from it. Now, it's become a sort of show to Sometimes he complains about a goon making a grievous error that Joker rectifies with a bullet or attempts to lure the Bat out from whatever cave he's been hiding in after Dent's death. The pinkette finds it all fascinating and exciting, even if it's terrible, but this is who Jack is now. He revels in the explosions and fires, all the mayhem and complicated plans.

"Shaddap if it hurts to talk." He grunts and slides across the mattress, dragging the duvet back over. Sakura shifts to look at him, watching the clown leaning his bare back against the headboard. The muscle in his cheeks twitches as he mutters something under his breath.

 _'_ _What's he doing now?'_

 _"C'mere."_ Despite telling her to come to him, he scoots over and the bed dips under his weight. Laying on his side, J moves closer until there's no room left. She knows he missed her, even if the words won't come out. Actions always speak louder, proving more than anything else. Sweet-nothings and heartfelt confessions are what most people yearn for, but Sakura would rather a man _show_ her the truth than speak lies.

This is his form of care, even if it's gruff and obnoxious. Jack's violent, arrogant, manipulative, and downright cruel most of the time. However, it's those specks in between that are saved especially for her that makes the rest inconsequential. The clown keeps her safe from the other monsters lurking in the shadows throughout the city. They won't hesitate to rip her to pieces or abuse her ability, unlike this man. He likes the pinkette staying whole, even if their nights result in bruises in the shape of a large hand or long fingers. It's nothing she can't heal and they both have fun causing them. That's what happens when a man's rough in bed and does it _right_.

Sakura closes her eyes when he buries his face in her hair, greedily breathing in her scent. J treats it like huffing in fumes he's trying to high from and never wants to stop. A hand slithers under the sheets to rest on her abdomen, drawing lazy circles over the thin fabric of her shirt with his fingers. He's been doing this more often lately. The pinkette isn't sure why but worries he might stop if she asks. It's soothing and helps lull her into a peaceful state, letting all the worries from outside the bedroom melt right off her shoulders. Nothing matters anymore, except the two of them.

The small action elicits a groan from the pinkette as she leans her head against his chest, finding a comfortable spot. His skin is always so warm as if the fire he loves so much dances just beneath the surface. It's like having a safe, heated blanket wrapped around her that no one can get through. As long as she stays here, nothing can touch her besides him and the thought is oddly pleasant.

"Well, doll… Since ya asked _so_ _nicely_ and you're stuck in bed, might as well give ya some entertainment while I'm here." Sakura knows what that means. He wants to paint a vivid picture of his exploits from the recent excursion in the city, yet wants to make it seem like he's doing _her_ a favor. The showman in him enjoys the reactions he's able to draw out from giving every gory detail and miraculous feat, becoming completely smug from his ingenuity.

"Great. I want to hear it." She coughs again and her voice is still raspy. He can feel her muscles jolt from each one as his fingers pulse against the flimsy material. The moment the fit stops, the pinkette jerks when he pinches her cheek, giving it a little tug to get his point across.

"I thought I told ya not to talk if it hurts _? Hmm?"_ Glancing up, he has an exaggerated frown that almost looks like a wide smile from her angle. His tongue snakes out to prod the broken skin of his scar, waiting until she slowly nods before continuing.

"Good. Just _re-lax_ and I'll tell ya all about my little run-in with the, ah _, Bat_."


End file.
